The Lost Ones
by caitewarren
Summary: "Neverland wasn't meant for them. It was meant for us." Tag to "Lost Girl" Sneak peek, what if Killian too was awoken the crying of the lost boys? Captain Swan. *SPOILERS*


**Title: **The Lost Ones

**SPOILERS**

The cries screeched and echoed amongst the dense forests. Towards the end of his stay here the last time he'd grown accosted to it, almost like a lullaby, easing him to sleep with his ears ringing. It seemed he'd lost that ability in his time away.

His sleeping arrangements had been set up a few feet away from everyone else. The seclusion had been his own decision of course but he figured it'd be best. Emma became sullen and quiet after her speech, as if she'd just realized she'd nearly died. _Nearly_. _Died_.

It was then that he heard an aggravated cry, the sound of rustling leaves and sharp stabbing noise. Fumbling slightly to his feet he raced in the direction of the cry to find Emma breathing rapidly ripping to shreds a piece of yellowed parchment in a crazed desperate motion.

"Emma?" he called gently, "love, what are you doing?"

She whipped her head in his direction and for a slight moment she looked like a crazed beast before her features softened into defeat and exhaustion. She slid down the bark of the tree tugging her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms tightly around them. The pieces of paper fluttered and surrendered her. Tears formed but didn't fall, rather she sniffed and wiped them away hastily hoping he didn't notice them.

"Why are you awake?" she whispered in an almost childlike manner.

Walking towards her, he lowered himself to the ground and sat cross-legged about two feet away from her, "the Lost one's cries they're keeping me awake."

Starring wide eyed she asked, "why do we only hear them?"

"Only people like the Lost Ones can hear their cries," he answered and upon the confused look that spread across her face he added, "orphans."

It'd taken the longest time for him to realize it the last time. On the nights his crew wasn't under attack, all of them were able to sleep on their shifts peacefully, all but him. He'd wonder the decks of the Jolly Roger starring bleary eyed at the horizon for the suns of Neverland to rise and the cries to subside. He'd become nocturnal before he was able to dull out the cries of the Lost Ones and sleep in the dark once again.

"You're an orphan?" Emma murmured quietly before she could stop herself. She'd been suspecting it for a while but could never quite fathom it. She'd sympathized with the Lost Boys and Peter Pan on their wanting a mother figure in Wendy to care for them but never did she quite sympathize with Captain Hook of Barrie's story or the movies.

Was that what Pan had meant? Embrace being an orphan? Hadn't she already? Countless horrid abusive foster parents made her aware that the world was a cold, cruel, place to the ones who were weak.

"My father was a fugitive, he'd put on this ruse that we'd traverse the various lands upon a ship but he was escaping detainment from the King. I awoke one morning and he was gone," Killian explained picking up pieces of Neverland's soft sand and letting it slip through his fingers as anger boiled. He couldn't ever quite shake the feeling of being left all alone, to wonder around the town and the docks in search of him. The people's faces of pity were engrained into the back of his mind, "and I was never quite sure what became of my mother," he extended his good hand tugging off the large ring that rested on it, "this belonged to her family and I found a hair brush with locks of red hair in it that belonged to her, I think my father took it with him when he fled."

The ring was heavy in her hands made of silver evidently with a trident engraved into the front of it. Quietly she turned it all around taking note of every notch and rust mark before giving it back to him.

"And you said you weren't sentimental," Emma remarked watching as a soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips before it was replaced with a tight grimace, he didn't bother to deny it this time. Heaving in a deep breathe she began to tell of her encounter with Peter Pan.

When she was finished he let out a shaky laugh and uttered, "sneaky sadistic bastard. Emma your son will be alright."

Emma raised an eyebrow at him, "you don't even know him."

"No but I do know his parents, if he's anything like you or Baelfire he's most defiantly got a fighting chance. I've never seen two more resilient people in my life,"

And there was that look again, the far away distant one of regret and sorrow. It hadn't ended well between the two of them and that knowledge was eating away at her insides. He cared for Neal er Baelfire, that much was clearly obvious.

He stood up at that moment brushing off the dirt from his leather pants and offered his good hand to her. Hesitating slightly she took it again and he grasped tightly around her hand as he lifted her off her feet.

"Do they ever stop screeching?" Emma inquired placing her fingers in her ears hoping to drone out some of the sound.

"Does an orphan ever truly stop wishing for their parents?" he asked and his cerulean eyes wondered off behind her in the direction of her slumbering parents. He leaned in closer, "they do love you, Emma."

There'd been a time when his father loved him. His memory had blurred over time but there were few things he could recall. Papa had been a tall man, seemingly a giant, with big sad blue eyes and he always seemed to be starring at the water. He was called Davy by the people in the town but on the wanted poster Killian had found years later it said his name was Eric.

Emma scoffed folded her arms across her chest trying to stop the guilt, anger, abandonment and hope from forming inside of her stomach. Whatever ability they had to be inherently optimistic evidently didn't get passed onto her. How could they be so damn hopeful with all of the things that had been hurtled in their paths, were the losses really worth their gains?

"Pan said I need to stop denying who I am," Emma said firmly, "and that's an orphan."

Killian shook his head, "no not an orphan lass, a _lost _one," It'd been the defeated abandoned look in her eyes that first drew him to the Swan girl, that and that she'd bested him. Called him out on his ruse, "That's what Neverland was originally based upon a salvation for those who are lost and alone."

"Then let's go," Emma urged slightly reaching for the sword, "Henry's out there somewhere and there's no time to lose."

"Oi hold up lass. You're not ready for the Lost Ones, not yet. Not until your skin returns to its normal shade and you get some practice on with that sword."

"Excuse me?" Emma cried, "I slayed a dragon and I _beat _you."

"Love, I'm a pirate whose spent his whole life learning how to sword fight, not to mention served in the navy and you what? Just picked up a sword to slay the beast? You are not ready for Neverland and most especially not for the Lost Boys and Pan." His eyes wondered towards where Snow and Charming slept, peacefully unaware of the screeching cries snuggled up against one another, "and what of your parents-

"They don't hear the cries!" Emma protested her voice raising a few octaves, "they are the reason I hear them!" She unsheathed the sword grasping it tightly in her hands, "Neverland wasn't meant for them. It was meant for _us_."

**A/N: Spoilers galore! But the show is back and I couldn't help but to write this short snippet in response to "The Lost Girl" sneak peak.**


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